


a love as pure as it

by nextstopparis



Series: merthur week [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, Episode: s04e03 The Wicked Day, Established Relationship, M/M, idk i just want them to hUg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextstopparis/pseuds/nextstopparis
Summary: There is a feast right after Arthur's coronation.For Day 2 of Merthur Week 2020: "I'm so proud of you" + Established Relationship
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: merthur week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067786
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60
Collections: Merthur Week 2020





	a love as pure as it

**Author's Note:**

> this was TERRIFYING. oh my god at least for the last one i had an idea fsiefjsliefj this is just the first thing that came to mind last minute osijfslfjso. anyway. i think describing arthur as golden is the best thing fanfic writers have ever done so. thats all i have to say. i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> title from 'gold rush' by taylor swift

There is a feast right after Arthur’s coronation. 

Camelot has mourned Uther to the best of her ability, but there is only so much grief to be felt when Arthur’s the one taking his father’s place. The jovial mood is evident in every laughing face and drunken song. It’s evident from the way people smile at each other, to the way they regard Arthur in a gaze that holds more than reverence, more than hope; a gaze that conveys genuine love.

Merlin understands completely.

He feels bad for it, because he’s the one that had draped Arthur’s cloak over his shoulders for the ceremony. He’s the one that had smoothed out his chainmail unnecessarily in a subtle attempt to comfort his king. He’s the one that had cupped Arthur’s face, wiped his tears, kissed his cheek, his chin, his forehead, and his jaw, murmuring about how sorry he was. 

So he’s the one who knows how much pain Arthur’s in - the ache of losing a father is not a foreign thing, after all, and it has yet to elude him - because he’s the only one Arthur showed that pain to. 

And it hurts to see the one person he loves more than all else suffer quietly - to suffer alone - as everyone else laughs and dances and celebrates an occasion that only really signifies a father’s death to his son.

But, also, it was impossible to look at his king - at _Arthur_ \- standing tall and regal, with the sun setting his profile aglow, and feel anything other than pure happiness and love; both so large and encompassing that tears had gathered in his eyes. 

(He wonders if Arthur would forgive him, if he ever knew.)

It is that guilt that makes his feet move ahead of his mind; that guilt that places him right next to Arthur’s chair; that guilt that makes him bend down, suggest they leave the feast, with a hand on his arm.

_Come, my Lord,_ he says, letting himself escape away into those tired blue eyes, _it’s been a long day, no one will blame you for wanting some rest._

Arthur looks away, around the room, and nods. It’s a tired concession, almost defeated, and Merlin’s heart stutters out a sad reply.

They make their excuses, wave farewell to the nobles, and say quiet goodbyes to their friends, before - finally - closing themselves out into the corridors. The chill of the night has seeped into the stones of the castle, and Merlin huddles them closer together on their walk back up to their room.

They’re shivering once they enter and close the doors, but there must be some form of god or goddess out there, looking after them, because a large, warm fire is already cracking merrily in the hearth, lighting the room in a soft orange hue that’s mixed with the deep blue of the night. 

From there, it’s easy to fall back into old routines; unclasping Arthur’s cloak and lifting his armour off his back became muscle memory in the five years Merlin played at being his manservant. He sets them aside, softly, and turns to finally take his crown. More mindful of what it signifies than what it’s made of, Merlin recognizes his own reverence when he lifts it. 

This is - everything. 

Once that, too, is resting gently on the table, he faces back only to see Arthur standing where he was, motionless, as if stuck in a state of uncertainty; as if he has no idea what to do outside of protocol. 

Merlin rests his hands on Arthur’s hips, and he pulls his king close. This is the best comfort he can offer, anyway. He goes to him easily - like clouds being pulled by the wind - and soon, they’re entwined so closely that Merlin forgets where he ends and Arthur begins.

He runs his hands through Arthur’s hair and clutches his waist; he nudges Arthur to tuck his nose into his neck, and brushes his lips across every visible patch of skin he can reach; he lets his breath whisper every promise he’s always wanted Arthur to know, that his voice is too occupied to say. 

He tells Arthur in hushed tones how much he loves him, says _I’m so proud of you_ and leaves it vague, because he’s proud of Arthur for everything he has done, and everything he is, and he’ll be damned if he’s another person that Arthur doesn’t hear it from. 

When the king starts shaking, they move to the chair in front of the fire. Merlin pushes him to sit, and refuses him when he’s offered to grab another chair. They’re closer together like this.

Awashed in firelight, Arthur clutches Merlin's waist, pulling him close once again, and rests his forehead on Merlin's sternum, breathing in and out. 

They stay there for what feels like a small, private eternity, and sometime between wrapping his arms around Arthur’s shoulders and kissing his shimmering hair, Merlin finally begins to understands why men cheat and steal and murder and lie just to own and know - personally - the precious purity of gold.

He bends to rest his cheek on his king’s head, warmer because of the feeling of this love than because of the fire, and then takes a steady breath.

**Author's Note:**

> get it bc arthur's golden and merlin would do all that stuff for -- u know what nvm. thanks for reading!!! i really hope you liked it!!:)


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